The Soldier's Tale by RJ Scott Page A

for one. Sean listened to the whole thing, gently massaging Daniel's scalp and, every so often, nodding at what Daniel was saying.
    "So, let me get this right. You're scarred, ugly, you have difficulty standing for long periods of time, people will stare, and you don't want to ruin the photos. Is that right?" Daniel shut his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest on Sean's chest, suddenly uncomfortable with the scrutiny from Sean's knowing gaze. He muttered a yes that was muffled by the soft worn cotton of Sean's T-shirt. "You are staying away from your best friend's wedding even though both he and Di want you to be there." Sean encouraged him to look up, and Daniel sunk into his lover's thoughtful gaze. At least Sean wasn't dismissing the whole problem out of hand.
    "Don't tell them, but it isn't just…" His words trailed off as he pulled his thoughts together towards some kind of logical conclusion. "I can't think straight sometimes. I'm not sure, but all those people…" Sean moved his other hand until he could cup Daniel's face and pull him up for a kiss. It was a gently searching kiss with seemingly no end, tongues tangling and tasting. Daniel could kiss like this forever, patient and tireless and warm, delaying Sean's inevitable reaction to Daniel revealing his uncertainty with everything. Sean was murmuring words in between breaths of air. "Gorgeous, sexy, mine…"
    When they finally separated, and the autumn night was inviting secrets, Sean led Daniel up to the bedroom, curling in behind Daniel and holding him tight. The physical connection didn't need to go any further. It was right; it was perfect. Sean's last words before sleep deepened his breathing and relaxed his hold were the ones that lingered in Daniel's thoughts as he waited for the pain meds to allow him to sleep.
    "Will and Di are good friends. Neither of them would want you to be uncomfortable. It will be fine."
    It was amazing how those simple words—it will be fine—echoing what Will had said earlier, made Daniel feel less than what he should be. It took him a long time to find sleep.

    * * * *

    The Red Lion was busy, but for the stag night, the back room was booked. Twenty or so guys milled around drinking beer and talking shit. It was as familiar as a night with his army friends, and Daniel pushed past the ache at the memory to concentrate on being a good friend. Sean was here, across the room, looking over at him every so often and smiling. He had managed to avoid one-on-one with Will, and for that, he was thankful. However, it was that very reason that meant he was wedged into a corner, nursing a bitter shandy and leaning against the wall so he saved his knee the pressure of standing straight. He was happy to stand quietly and felt himself drift into remembering the dreams from the night before.
    "Hi." The voice was uncertain, nervous even, and Daniel blinked as he pulled himself back to the here and now. That guy was there, Mike or something, the one with the friend who had a bad arm.
    "Hi," he answered and shook the extended hand, this time without hesitation. He felt the familiar static spark, and he suddenly remembered the guy's name. Mark.
    "Do you…" Mark's voice trailed off, and he looked at his partner, who extended his hand in welcome to Daniel.
    "What Mark is trying to ask is whether you could spare ten minutes in the snug." The snug was a small room to the side of the main bar, and to be honest, Daniel could do with the peace. He nodded and, after agreeing to another small drink, allowed himself to be led to the area. There was one highly polished wood table with four chairs, and a door that separated them from the main bar. He slumped down in the wide, soft upholstered chairs. Jack and Mark sat down opposite him, and for a moment, it felt like he was in a head teacher's office awaiting some kind of punishment. He wondered if he should ask what was wrong, what they wanted to ask him, but he didn't need to.
    "I know about the knife,"